


Trials of Tyriel

by JavaKitten



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Blood Magic, Evanuris, F/M, Fluff, Mind Games, Necromancy, Possessive Behavior, Post-Trespasser, Smut, Titans (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2018-11-18 01:53:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11281287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JavaKitten/pseuds/JavaKitten
Summary: Freeing the evanuris will test her determination.Delivering souls to Falon'Din will test her purpose.Finding empathy with the Wolf will test everything she thought she knew...*Chapter 7 ending updated. Chapter 8 will be posted soon*





	1. Chapter 1

This reclaimed "Elvhenan" felt more like Thedas than the home she knew. The only true difference being that the Humans, Dwarves, and Qunari had been wiped out. This time there would be no other race to enslave or infect the elven people. He cleansed the world from what he had made it. But Elvhenan should not have been brought back, not like this...   

  
The life flow of this system had important flaws that few had the ability to notice. The majority of beings that can see these stranded dead souls were malevolent in nature. Necromancers and evil spirits were preying upon these defenseless souls consuming and corrupting them. With Falon'Din locked away, there was no one to guide the souls of the dead to safety beyond the veil.   

  
Fen'Harel is too arrogant and ignorant to see the fatal flaws he made. The Evanuris he banished played vital roles in their society, they were exalted for obvious reasons. The many blessings the Elvhen reaped were thanks to the generosity of the Evanuris. They were not the disgraceful figures he preached.  

  
He was the foul creature that tore the veil killing many of his fellow elvhen and damned the surviving ones to suffer as their world grew to become known as Thedas. Their immortal brethren fading out through the thousands of years he spent in uthenera. Their pure bloodline was on the brink of extinction.   

  
He was the true corrupt god. He had always rebelled against the laws and social norms of their former Elvhenan. Even with the rest of the Evanuris opposing him, Mythal defended him claiming he was not the mischievous man he was in his youth and that he had grown wise. He may have hung around spirits of wisdom but that does nothing. Wisdom is something you gain from experience, not something learned from a spirit. The Evanuris paid dearly for the mercy Mythal showed for the wolf. Even with all the kindness Mythal gave to the wolf, he murdered her. How could she have allowed such a monstrosity to be part of the Evanuris? 

"You're making that face again."   

  
The sound of his silvery voice drew Tyriel from her entrancing thoughts. The hood of her heavily worn cape followed the twist of her head as she averted her distracted gaze from the crowd of people lining the hall to the figure beside her.  

   
He leaned against the wall, a hooded cape matching her own disguised his tall, muscular build. Beneath the cascading brown fabric stood a man with tan sun kissed skin, white lyrium-infused veins trailed his body climbing up to the bottom curve of his lips. Wild hair the color of frost paired with enigmatic green eyes.   

  
"How would you know?" Her tone low and blunt.   

  
The weight he felt from her stare amused him, the right corner of his lips lifted into a smirk. His eyes stared down over the fabric covering his folded arms to the cold grey stone floor beneath his feet. "You're not as cryptic as you think. Your brows furrow into a tight knot, the clench of your jaw paired with pressed lips cause your cheeks to sink inward. Every time you lose yourself in thought, your face stiffens to the same fixed expression."   

  
"Fenris, that is your face every day." An amused smile danced across her lovely lips. He had a way of bringing out the playful nature hidden behind her steel facade.   

  
"Next case come forth." Commanded the guard standing in the open doorway. Tyriel and Fenris looked forward observing the guard donned in smooth silver armor, elaborate designs had been etched into chest plate flowing in an outward design down the arm and leg guards.   

  
The small group of people standing in line before them trudged forward, following the guard into the council's chambers. The two guards posted in the hallway before them shut the thick wooden doors before returning to their proper statuesque stance.

     
Tyriel took a small step towards Fenris leaning her head towards the side of his. "We will be next, are you sure you wish to accompany me?" Her voice a careful whisper, trying to keep her conversation private from the guards prying ears.   

  
A sigh pushed its way from Fenris' tense lips as if his exhale would lighten the weight felt on his conscience. "I know the possible outcome." His tone low and direct. "There will always be people who twist the good intention of others for their benefit. Slavery will never cease to exist, we will do what we can when the issue arises... As of right now, I will remain at your side."   

  
She nodded her head giving him a signal of her acceptance. "Very well, there is a favor I must ask of you then."   

  
"What is it?"   

  
"You are to remain idle once we enter the council's courtroom."   

  
His stance stiffened causing the fabric of his cape to sway, brushing against hers. Tyriel remained silent pretending not to acknowledge his change in posture. He had grown protective of her over the years they have spent traveling together; however, this was not something she needed protection from. This is a matter of her own conscience and purpose she must face.   

  
"Fine." His tone became forthright and demanding catching Tyriel off-guard. "As payment for this favor, you will pay my tab at the bathhouse."   

  
Her raised eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, the shadow of her hood concealing her expression. The strength of her whisper raised from amusement. "Really? You want me to pay your tab for tits and ale for you to stand and do nothing?"   

  
"It's a cheap price for shit I'll be listening to." His words laced with a devious timbre.   

  
Geez, how primitive men can be. A brief laugh escaped her lips as she spoke. "Fine."   

  
Silence bloomed between the two of them though chatter amongst the crowd behind them continued to fill the hall. Voices of people bickering and strategizing within their respected groups. Even those who were silent contributed to the echoing noise with the restless tapping of their feet or soft clicks of nails being bitten nervously. Tyriel let her eyes wander observing the hall. The House of Councils was one of the newer buildings constructed since "the cleanse". Flooring was of smooth grey stone while a collage muted white stones ranged the walls. The inside of the structure was basic and bare compare to the many other structures Arlethan offered.   

  
Large doors opened once more as the guard approached the hall from the council's chambers. His stance hollowed as he called forth the party for the next case. Tyriel and Fenris stepped forward following the guard's brisk pace into the council's courtroom. Thick wood doors shut tightly behind them as they walked deeper into the vast bare room. Each corner within the room was occupied by guards donned in the same silver armor as the guard they were following. The plain stone works from the hall claimed this room making it feel sterile and meager.   

  
They followed until the guard stopped in the middle of the room pointing to the ground just in front of him. Tyriel carried out his wordless command, standing before him as she removing her hood that had sealed away her long white tresses, looking over to Fenris with a gentle nod cueing him to do the same.   

  
Three extravagant thrones carved from the trunks of ironbark trees lined the back wall. Rich hues of mahogany marbled over every curved carving, decorating the chairs with long interwoven stems of elfroot chiseled from the legs up the tall back frame. Thickly stuffed cushions had been secured in place by a deep violet fabric. A long table matching the marbled ironbark and elfroot design was the only object that stood in the ample space between them. Five more guards arranged themselves around the council members. One to each side of the table while the other three stood barely visible as only the top of their heads peaked over the high backs of the councilmen's thrones.   

  
Lips pursed tightly as disappointment weaved through her. She did not see an opulent soul within any of the members before her nor did she see an empty space, the sign of a guarded soul. The souls of these men were muted and average compared to the majority of the elven population. It was now obvious to Tyriel that the wolf was not among the seated council members. Tyriel had hoped to address him directly through the court seeing how difficult it has proven to get close to him otherwise. Rumors had been spreading that Fen'Harel would be amongst the council today. She felt foolish giving such value to a rumor.

     
Council hearings are held once a month with a minimum of three council members attending. The roster of attending council members alternate in an obscure order. Dalish High Keepers, surviving Elvhen nobility, and Fen'Harel made up the members of the High Council. The only consistency to the rotation is that one Elvhen member must be present at the meeting due to their previous experience with Elvhen law, conduct, and culture.   

  
"State your name for the council." Spoke the elven man seated in the middle throne.   

  
Eyes of golden honey stared fiercely at the seated figures, her voice following the tone of her stare. "My name is Tyriel." Her hand extended outwards in Fenris' direction. "Beside me is my companion Fenris." 

"I am Keeper Ishan." Answered the elf sitting on the left end of the table. He was an aged man with ash grey shoulder length hair and gentle blue eyes. The left half of his was shaded a dark fading green with outlines of twisted vines ascending from the bottom on his chin up to his forhead. While the right half of his face was an everted image of his left, the dark green pigment curling upwards over his pale aging skin. It was Elgar'nan's vallaslin that claimed the canvas of his face. 

  
"I am Keeper Virion." Spoke the thin lipped man in the middle throne. The man was bald with brown fading eyes and wore what appeared to be June's vallaslin. It was difficult to make out the design, typically vallaslins are easily distinguishable, but the man's face was riddled with heavy wrinkles causing the beautiful arrangement to be distorted. Tyriel felt pity for the decrepiting man before her, if he was Elvhen, he would be but a child. Now he served as living proof of how pitiless time can be. 

"You will address me as Lord Josiah, I am the Elvhen council member." Replied the man at the right end of the table.   

  
It had already become apparent to Tyriel that Lord Josiah was Elvhen, his long blonde hair tied back into a low ponytail, giving show to cool blue eyes, pressed lips and supple skin uncorrupted by the disease of time. He had such a youthful appearance that Tyriel figured many of the elven must mistake him for one of their younger adults. 

   
"What is it you seek from the council?" Keeper Ishan asked in a direct manner, his voice stern yet neutral. They had many more cases to handle and time was an important factor to be aware of when approaching each case.   

  
Tyriel clenched her fists beneath her cloak hoping the tight grip would provide her the indomitable nerve she needed. "I wish for the council to overrule Fen'Harel's banishment upon the Evanuris." She said intrepidly.   

  
There was an unintended unison amongst the council members expressions. The Keepers' once muted and calm souls were now lively and sharp. Eyes bulged and mouths sat ajar as they sat rattled from her statement. Except for Lord Josiah who retained his calm calculated composure, pressing his back firmly against the cushion of his throne, narrowing his icy gaze on Tyriel. The issues they had grown accustom to dealing with involved ownership of lands, drunkards or thieves causing problems in the city, or establishing trade laws and agreements. They were not prepared for such a audacious request.   

  
"Do not waste out time on such preposterous requests!" Keeper Ishan shouted. "For what reason? Fen'Harel has united all the elven people and secured the land for our race alone. To do such a thing would wreak chaos on the peace we have finally obtained!"   

  
"Keeper Ishan is right, Fen'Harel would never consent to such a thing. There is no telling what the Evanuris would do once released. They would surely seek revenge for their banishment. And who do you think are going to be the ones who pay in the end? Everyone knows that their wars and quarrels with each other was at the expense of their followers." Keeper Virion interjected cynically.   

  
Tyriel took a step forward, her foot slamming against the stone floor. "There is no proof they deserved banishment in the first place." Condescension laced through her words as she threw her hand forward violently pointing her finger at the Keepers. "You will pray, you worship and you wear their vallaslins yet you remain idle while they are locked away. You Dalish Keepers prove to be nothing more than worthless hypocrites. You ask them to shower you with blessings, grant your selfish desires, and in return you would give them animal sacrifices and trinkets. What are they to make of your pathetic offerings you imbeciles?"   

  
Red heat flushed over the Keepers' faces, their eyes squinting into haughty glares. Tyriel could not make out much of what either Keeper was shouting as their words blended together each interrupting the other. Spatters of spit spewed from their mouths carrying their disdainful words with it.   

  
From the corner of her eyes she noticed a shift in Fenris' stance. The tips of his thumb and index finger pinched the bridge of his nose, slightly blocking the furrow in his brow. The deep rise and fall of his shoulders showing his growing irritation. Whether it was to the Keepers behavior or the situation as a whole, she wasn't sure.   

  
"Enough!" Lord Josiah commanded.   

  
The Keepers fell silent as they looked to their left at the handsome Elvhen man. Their stares were like that of embarrassed children being scolded by their father, lips curled inwards as their eyes looked down refusing to make eye contact. Lord Josiah sat stiff and upright, arms tightly folded over his ribs, the rise and fall from his chest was protrusive. The pulse of his heavy blue soul following suit. 

  
Tyriel had never felt such a burning gaze from someone with such cool blue eyes, the heat of Josiah's gaze made her feel uneasy. She was sure she had lost any chance of favor with the Dalish Keepers, but she could not afford to lose Josiah's too.     
"The blood of my time flows through you, does it not?"   

  
Like a child attempting to attract a feral cat with milk, She would try to earn Josiah's good will toward her with a soft, sweet tone. "It does my Lord." It felt bizarre and pathetic to appease him the way she was, but in her current circumstance what other options did she have? She was growing desperate for a way to get to Fen'Harel and free the Evanuris.     
"What was your class?" His question as blunt as the last.  

  
_Was he evaluating whether to hear her out based off her social value from before the fall of Elvhenan? That would be an Elvhen noble for you..._

Tyriel wasn't sure what to make of his questions but she had to answer him, regardless.     
"There was no class for my kind. My existence is not one of lineage."   

  
An arc in Josiah's eyebrow displayed his heightened interest. "Tell me then, who is your maker?" The words carried by his calm and cool tone.   

  
A gleam grew in her eyes as the right side of her lips lifted painting a prideful smirk. "The foundation of my body is forged from the rich soil of the fertile earth. My hair a collection of ethereal wisps from the delicate clouds. The golden honey of my eyes made from rays of the heavenly sun. I am a creation of the goddess of love, the goddess of justice, the all-mother, Mythal."   

"Liar!" Shouted Keeper Ishan jolting up from his elaborate throne. His clenched jaw and flared nostrils coated his wrinkled features in the red pigments of anger. "We High Keepers have studied many records of the gods and the only noted creations of Mythal are the goddesses Andruil and Sylaise. You expect us to believe tha-"  

"Be silent Keeper Ishan." Josiah demanded, shooting Ishan a cold glare from the corner of his eyes. "She has declared herself as one from my time, which means she is under my jurisdiction. Whether she is a creation of Mythal or not is no longer your concern. Now with that said..." His eyes fell back onto Tyriel as he addressed her once more, his voice cold and patronizing. "With such an extravagant claim, I expect you able to prove it... So creation of Mythal, what do you have to offer me?"   

  
Tyriel felt nervous, she wasn't sure how she was to prove herself. Reading their souls would do nothing. Touching the souls of living beings was useless and doing so would only prove she was a necromancer of sorts and nothing more. Brows furrowed as her considered options dwindled rapidly. "I do not have the ability to prove what I say is true. My gifts are not of that nature." The proud tone she had once displayed was now a low timbre.   

  
"Perhaps it is no coincidence then that I am here today in place of Fen'Harel for I have a pertinent talent for gaining the truth." 

    
Eyebrows raised from her widening eyes, a sudden gasp of disbelief escaped from her lips. "Perhaps it is no coincidence that I am here today in place of Fen'Harel..." Josiah's words played over and over again in her head. Did Fen'Harel know she had been looking for him? Could she have walked into one of his traps?   

  
The corners of Josiah's mouth twisted upwards as he narrowed his eyes on Tyriel's face noting her baffled expression. "Would you consent to sharing your truth with me?"   

  
Though his question was of a condescending tone, it was his mischievous grin and previous statement about Fen'Harel that made Tyriel uneasy. As if the ground beneath her was crumbling under her once planted stance. She wanted to confront Fen'Harel not his pawns, but she had to face that fact he had allies and strong ones at that. Well, he does while the Evanuris are still locked away that is. To free the trapped souls and the Evanuris she could not back down. It was too late, she had made her bed and now it was time to lie in it.


	2. Chapter 2

Golden eyes shut tightly as she took a deep breath attempting to calm her racing mind. "Do what you must, I will provide what I can." She spoke, placing the focus of her sight back on Josiah.

Josiah's expression only grew wider with amusement as he rose from the comfort of his tall throne. The cadence of his powerful steps echoing off the smooth stone floor as he advanced towards her. He was the hungry predator, and she was the willing prey. Their exchange of fixed stares only clarified it all the more, his aggressive advancement and her motionless stance waiting for his bite.

But their stare off became interrupted by the sudden rush of brown that swerved in front of her view barricading her away from Josiah's reach. Right hand gripping the smooth silver hilt of his sword while his left hand pushed outward toward Josiah. "You've come close enough!" She couldn't see his face but recognized Fenris even through his gruff tone.

The guard to the right of Tyriel jolted forward drawing his sword but abruptly stopped leaving it half pulled from its sheath, hand still tensely clinging to its gripped hilt. She couldn't see Josiah but figured he must have signaled the guard to halt. Josiah scoffed at Fenris, amused by his macho display. "I'm not nearly close enough..."

Josiah was mocking Fenris, playing off his protective nature for her. She couldn’t allow Fenris to do this. She should've made him wait outside the room, knowing him well enough that no deal could entice him to be a bystandard while she became cornered. Tyriel placed her hand gently on Fenris' tense shoulder, leaning in towards him, her tone a low whisper, "Let him do what he must. Remember what we came here for."

Fenris exhaled removing his hand from the haft. His tensed muscles refused to relax as he stepped back to the spot he stood before watching Josiah with a burning glare. Josiah was unfazed by Fenris' glare, repaying him with a condescending smirk, holding the stalemate until he had taken another few steps towards Tyriel leaving only a foot of space between them. The sheer flowing strands of Josiah's soul waived wildly displaying his desire to learn the truth-her truth-this supposed creature of Mythal's. If she was lying, she would be punished but if it was true, there was no telling what secrets he could discover.

Tyriel's view shifted, examining the Keepers sitting high and mighty on their extravagant thrones. Ishan sat slightly slumped in his seat, the tips of his fingers tapping impatiently against the tables flat surface. Virion was the opposite, leaning forward with his elbow propped on the table, face leaning against the knuckles of his fist. They had already made up their minds, she was a lair and a threat to the unity of their society.

"Pay them no mind," Josiah spoke in a smooth and prideful tone, "for I am the one who holds authority over you."

Tyriel barely had to adjust her view with him standing so close to her. "Drogan" Josiah started as he stretched out his left hand toward the guard. "Would you be so kind?"

The guard knew what he wanted, removing a dagger from the sheath attached to his belt. He was silent, letting the dagger he gently handed over be his reply. Josiah took it, paying the guard a slight nod of appeasement. With dagger in hand, Josiah lifted out his right palm before Tyriel, a demand for her hand to fill his.

She obliged him, lifting her hand free from the confines of her cloak, placing it warily upon the soft surface of his pale palm. His hand grasped hers tightly turning her hand so her fingers pointed upwards while simultaneously slicing the pad of her index finger. The flow of his movements were smooth and agile. She winced from the swift slit of his cut, pearls of crimson bloomed from the small open crevice. Streaks of deep red descended spiraling their caresses down the length of her pale finger.

"Try not to resist my urges, I will release you once I am satisfied." His words honeyed.

_Urges... Satisfied... Where is this going?_

She knew he would have to filter through memories but what kind of urges did he plan to push upon her? Satisfied? Could she trust he wouldn't dive deeper than she wished to provide? She watched him with intensity as he guided her hand towards his mouth. His sharp blue eyes flickered with amusement at the sight of her porcelain skin blooming to a soft pink.

Allowing one of the crimson trails to lead his taste buds upwards towards the source, removing the trace of its path along the way. The tickle from his tongue sent a flutter of goosebumps through her hand and over her body. His tongue grazed over the cut sending trickles of sensation through her.

Her soft golden eyes began losing the warmth of their hue fading into a cooler tone. The change in her eyes showed him the progress of his magic flowing through her. She was not fighting him, in fact it was quite the opposite, he could taste her hunger for affection. Her blood telling him of her abstinence. It had been so long since she had been fulfilled. Oh how he will enjoy provoking her... teasing her... tempting her.

His tongue left her finger, starting at the bottom of another trail, following it to the cut. Every caress over the varying trails origin sent her deeper into the pull of his magic. It was the hazy stare of violet eyes that signaled him she was close. Her eyes focused on the last ruby path remaining, her breath held in anticipation of his expected lick. He granted her the skim of his tongue as desired, tracing the trail back to its source, allowing his lips to wrap around her finger claiming it for himself as his tongue massaged it.

Breaths becoming rapid, lips curled inward fighting back the moan trying to escape her lips. Her expressions and reactions enticed him but he could always try for her another time. For now, he needed to focus on the matter at hand. There it was before him, the blue of his eyes mirrored in hers. The time to claim his prize had come.

His tongue stiffened pressing against the cut on her finger. The trickling of magic he had been dispersing through her now flowed freely. He began tracing his magic from the tip her finger to the flow of memories within her head.

 

_Take me to the beginning._

 

He spoke to her but not with his voice. He was directing her through the use of his magic. She had no way to respond other than to show him what he demanded.

An abrupt flash of muted colors and shuffling images sped past his eyes. The process of filtering memories was different for each person. The scatter of images came to a halt, giving the muted colors their vibrant life in the playing memory.

They were in the Arbor Wilds, a forest with the omnipresent of lush greenery surrounding you. Tall broad trees shaded the landscape with their flooded canopies. Sporadic glowing rays of the sun pressed through every opening it could find, lighting up the forest floor with its warmth and luminosity. The sounds of cascading water rose from a stream trailing through the forest creek bed.

Amongst all the rich life and colors of the forest was a pathetic pale mass laying upon the dirt. A weak and fragile thing, her slender body curled into a fetal position. Strands of long white hair was the only thing blanketing her raw naked body. Golden eyes slowly opened and closed struggling to focus on the two faces before her.

"Carry her to the temple, my creation must rest." It was the voice of the ashen haired woman with yellow eyes, Mythal.

With that a sentinel with long tied back white hair, Mythal's vallaslin, and gleaming yellow eyes lifted Tyriel's limp body from the soft soil of the forest floor. Following Mythal's lead, he headed to the Temple.

Josiah recognized the senitel as one of Fen'Harel's acquaintences. His name if he recalled correctly was Abelas...

The memory ended, freezing the scene and turning the surroundings a muted shade of grey.

 

_Show me your purpose for creation._

 

Again a sudden surge of dull colors and scenes passed his sight until she found a memory that could provide the answer.

It was a shabby tent in the middle of a small elven camp on the edge of the Arbor Wilds. Cries of a baby accompanied by low whimpers of a praying woman had drawn Tyriel to the tent. The sight inside saddened her. Propped up by a pile of old dirty blankets and pillows, a woman laid cradling her newborn child. The woman was sickly pale, sweating profusely, whispering weak prayers of mercy to Mythal. Heat and moisture in the air caused the smell of her sickened sweat to be all the more pungent. The presence of her soul was fading, becoming limp in movement and a meek grey in color.

Tyriel kneeled beside the woman. Using her left hand to keep the woman's hands wrapped around the baby, Tyriel forced her right hand into the woman's solar plexus. Her now immaterial hand grasped the woman's soul filtering through the events of her life that could provide a cause or answer to such a disheartening sight. The woman felt an overwhelming surge of emotions as she too was forced to study over the prominent scenes of her life leading to this moment.

Tyriel released her grasp on the woman's soul once she learned the truth of the matter. This woman was dying from her illness and had been blessed enough to have the chance to deliver her baby boy. The Father of her child was her sister's husband making the baby a bastard. Due to the actions of her and her sister's husband, they had damned the child to the life of an outcast. The clan would exile the boy as to not cause a bigger rift within the small clan than had already grown.

Gathering up the baby from its mother's hands, Tyriel laid him gently upon the ground. He was still crying but Tyriel had to turn her focus to the dying mother. She leaned in pressing her lips against the woman's ear. "Your son will be one of Mythal's many children, do not linger in fear any longer for I shall deliver him to the All-Mother." The gentle caress of her words were followed by the flow of a smooth slice. She had slit the woman's throat, keeping her head next to the woman's listening to the sound of her declining breaths.

A short burst of grey images lead him to a scene taking place in the inner sanctum of Mythal's Temple. The walls of stone had lines etched through them, a metallic foiling effect spread over their cold canvas. Burning torches lined the walls giving the room an orange-like hue. The flickering light mirrored in the crisp golden foil upon the walls giving the room a brighter appearance.

Mythal had been waiting for Tyriel to return and was unfazed by the sight of the infant cradled within her arms. Bloodshot eyes accompanied by patches of pink pigments covered her face. Tyriel had been crying. Her words raspy and uneven from the raw pain in her throat. "How could you do it? You heard her prayers, you knew her circumstance. Why did you refuse to show her mercy?"

The sides of Mythal's mouth lifted into a presumptuous smile as she approached Tyriel, tenderly removing the infant from her grasp. "Foolish girl, do you truly think you stumbled upon that woman by chance?" She started, a gentle tone carrying the condescension of her words. "I sent you her way to give her the comfort and closure she needed to pass in peace."

Tyriel's shoulders slouched forward following the bow of her head. Clusters of white strands draped over her face hiding shame flushed cheeks. There was a soft white glow fluttering inside her solar plexus, the soul of the woman she killed. It was airy and active, ethereal strands waving every which way. "What am I to do with her?" She asked meekly, caressing her hand over the glowing light within her ribs.

"That would be the vital question."

The response so blunt and open-ended she didn't know what to make of it. Tyriel lifted her head meeting Mythal's nurturing gaze with furrowed brows. "I don't understand. What is it you are telling me?" Her lyrical voice laced with confusion.

"I created you with the purpose of helping souls hindered by the ties to the physical world pass on to Falon'Din. For only he can carry souls beyond the veil to their final resting place. However, just like Sylaise and Andruil, I have gifted you the privilege to choose your own path. Be warned my little creation," her tone raised with vigor. "should you consume the souls instead of delivering them to Falon'Din, you will change. Not just your appearance but your mind, heart, and soul. You will become dark and corrupt, you will be no better than any of the other necromancers that skulk around our land."

The memory froze becoming monochromatic and lifeless.

 

_What did you do with these souls you collected?_

 

The rush of more memories and lackluster pigments crossed before his view. Where the memory began was unlike the pureness of Mythal's Temple or the serene beauty of the Arbor Wilds. Even though this was just a memory, Josiah could feel a weighted presence, something sinister yet familiar in a peculiar way.

The tall wood doors were unlike any others he had seen. They were not smooth or etched with elaborate designs. They were made from the trunk of an ancient oak tree, broad and thick. The wood bore an aged marble pattern that ascended the doors, raw knots of growth protruded outwards.

The magic that flows through this temple recognized her essence, opening the monstrous doors widely without a touch. They exposed a vast room with polished obsidian floors, their lustrous surface reflecting the light emitted from the vibrant green veilfire pits in each corner of the room. Magnificent mosaics in rich frescos embellished the walls around the room. Each illustration displaying a depiction of Falon'Din in all his glory, the flickering light of veilfire giving movement and life to their set image. On the far end of the room ahead of her was a raised dais with a small set of stairs before it.

It was there he sat, perched upon his grand stone throne draped in fabrics of gold and rich purple. He was a figure cloaked in black, the skull of a large owl masked the top half of his face, leaving the twisted smile upon his lips all the more prominent to her. He had known of her presence from the moment her agile feet touched his sacred ground. Pads of his fingers tapped against the stone armrests, eagerly waiting for her to come to him.

Tyriel couldn't help the mischievous grin that rose upon the soft pale features of her face. She let the cadence of her steps follow the rhythm of his restless tapping. Each tap carried her closer to him though it didn't take him over one pass through with tap of his fingers to catch on to her little game.

He turned his arms over letting the back of his hands rest against the stones cool surface. Even with his eyes hidden behind the owl's skull, Tyriel could sense the weight of his eager stare. She had something he wanted and was teasing him. But Tyriel knew any games with him were always short lived, he was a dominating deity. The only games he would play out until the end were ones with fellow Evanuris. The promise of power, slaves, or pledged nobility fueled his competitive nature. Though she was no formidable opponent, Falon'Din found her a rare and feral beauty to be tempted by.

"Times up." He said in his usual devious tone.

With the snap of his fingers he disappeared leaving only wisps of fading smoke to fill the throne he sat upon. Tyriel did not have to wonder where he went, hungry hands giving away his position, interlacing over hers as his chest pressed against her back, the low sensual tone of his voice tickling her ear. "You seem to have stamina in you."

He released her left hand, lifting her right hand above her head in a circular motion turning her around to face him. Tyriel laid her head against his broad shoulder, hiding her pressed smile and pinkly painted cheeks. He would not let her hide the fruition of his work from him. The length of his fingers lifted her face into his view as his thumb caressed her bottom lip. She could see them now, the vivid violet color of his eyes. She had never seen eyes like his before, so intense and hypnotic, she would lose herself in them if time would allow such a kindness.

"Are you ready Inan?" For such an aggressive man, he spoke to her with the utmost gentle tones.

She placed her hands on each side of his jaw as she softly smiled. "I am ready mir'ara." He nodded to her in response, wrapping one arm around her waist and the other up her back letting his fingers intertwine with the back of her hair. He lowered his mouth towards hers leaving only the slightest amount of space between their lips.

Tyriel pressed her body against his letting her jaw relax open as Falon'Din began the transfer of souls, drawing out the souls from the confines of her body through her supple lips. Smoke-like wisps of various colors began to flood into Falon'Din through the strong pull of his forceful magic. But his magic didn't just drain the souls within her, it drained her physically. This is how it always went, she would grow weaker as the exchange of souls continued. Her vision faded out, no matter how hard she fought to keep her eyes open. The caress of her hands against his jaw slid downward resting upon his chest as her knees buckled under the weight of her body.

Tyriel knew the toll this ritual had on her but that was irrelevant. She knew when she became weak, Falon'Din had the strength to carry them both through it. When her body faltered, he held her up, tightening his grasp around her, refusing to let her limp body crash against the obsidian floor. Her sight of his vivacious purple eyes continued to pulse, fading in and out until the heavy black curtains of her eyelids closed in on her world, sealing her away in their devouring darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elven Translations:  
> Inan- Eyes  
> Mir'ara- My desire


	3. Chapter 3

Josiah's fascination with Tyriel only grew stronger with each new experience he saw. She had proven herself to be one Mythal's creations and an obscure one at that. The purpose and gifts given to her by Mythal explain her interest in freeing the Evanuris but there was more to it. She gained knowledge from the souls she touched much like his ability to gain the truth by filtering through people's memories. She was a conduit between the hindered souls and Falon'Din but did not advance to godhood like her fellow creations Sylaise and Andruil.    

  
Each memory she provided gave him more than sufficient answers to his questions but they weren’t enough for his hungry and prying nature. She was the only other tie to the Evanuris he had besides Fen'Harel. The insight and experience she could show him was more than enough for him to justify abusing his authority. He wanted her memories and knowledge, figuring that the sensual sensations he had been spreading through her was enough of a trade to take what he wanted.      
    
 _And when you awake after the ritual..._    
   
There was no flood of colorless memories waving past his view. The memory picked up from the image of black it had left. Rays of green veilfire radiated against her tired eyes causing Tyriel to turn onto her other side. The dark crimson pillows and sheets beneath her were silky and gentle against her skin. A heavy fur throw trapped her in warmth sheltering her away from the cool night breeze pushing through the cracked window.    

  
But when Tyriel opened her eyes again, she met the sight of one of Falon'Din's many healers. The side of her lips lifted upwards giving the healer a sleepy smile. Toes flexed downwards as she raised her arms over her head lengthening her body as much as possible, a groan of relief poured from her mouth. 

    
"How long was I out for this time Kian?"    

  
The man was one of the blandest elvhen she ever seen, his hair and eyes a matching chestnut brown, a muddled reddish brown vallaslin claiming the soft tan features of his face. He was a few thousand years older than Tyriel but it was only obvious through his magic abilities and the way he carried himself.    

  
His forehead puckered from the lift in his eyebrows while his lips remained set in their relaxed position. "You are awake and seem to have full range of motion, my abilities are no longer needed."    

  
"Wait..." Tyriel said propping herself on her elbow.    

  
"What is it you need da'len?" His expression remained stiff and unamused, letting the blatant tone in his voice follow suit.      
"I want to know how long I have been unconscious." The smile faded from her face giving way to a serious look with pressed lips.

      
"You were incapacitated for two days."    

  
A slight smirk lifted from her pressed lips. "That's good to hear, I am usually out for longer. You must be quite the skilled healer."    

  
His eyes narrowed on her, flickering with his annoyance. "I am one of Falon'Din's personal healers for a reason. Though I hope to not see you for a while as my place is beside Falon'Din and his soldiers, not whatever-" Kian halted, shifting to a low yet brash tone. "I must take my leave, he knows you're awake and wishes to see you." His departure was silent and swift as his feet glided over the smooth obsidian floors and out past the wooden door before she could delay him again.      
    
Tyriel halted the memory at that, finding it adequate to meet Josiah's inquiry. There was more, something Tyriel was trying to keep from him. He could feel it from the sudden pause of the memory. There were too many enticing clues he had gathered from her memories. The way Falon'Din held her in his arms. The way he was sensitive to her presence. She called him mir'ara, her desire. Josiah made his conclusion, now it was time for her to confirm its legitimacy.      
    
 _Show me the rest of this memory._  
  
Tyriel heard his command, he knew she did. The memory remained dark and frozen.    

  
In the physical world, the side of Josiah's lips lifted at the edge while still holding their soft grasp around her finger. She was resisting him, disobedient girl, he had warned her. But it was no matter, the blue of his eyes still clung over the golden orbs of hers. A blanket of his own magic blocking her away from the physical world that surrounded her. Although hours passed in these memories, it had been mere minutes spent in the physical world.    

  
This is a simple fix especially with the emptiness she felt before his arousing magic. He removed his tongue from the pressed position against the slice on her figure. The blood had stopped trickling from her finger but he saw to that with a nibble to the tip of her finger. A weak streak of blood emerged from her finger. The warm, wet embrace of his tongue massaged her finger once more. Pressing harder with his tongue than he had before, surging more of his magic through her in waves. Her resistance dissolved with each eager sweep of his tongue against her open cut. It was when her hand became limp in his grasp he knew she had succumb to him. Tyriel had given him the signal of her willingness and he promptly dove back into her memories.      
    
_Now show me what happened next._  
    
The memory grew brighter once more with the electric flicker of veilfire. The room was bare, simple grey stones lined the walls the only thing decorating their boring pattern was the one veilfire torch mounded against its surface. There was one green stained glass window, and sleek black obsidian floors. Tyriel adjusted her sight from the door to the basic chair in the corner of the room beside her bed. A short kimono style silken robe sat pristinely folded on top of the seat. The fabric was much more sheer than the silk sheets of her bed and was of a deep jade green. The color was beautiful, reminding her of the rich foliage of the surrounding woodlands.    

  
She rose from the bed dressed in nothing but her breast band and panties. The healers would always strip her down to address any other wounds she might have gained from her travels before returning to the temple. Another kindness Falon'Din afforded her in exchange for her works.   

   
Unfolding the robe, she slid her arms through the smooth armholes of the robe. Lifting the strands of her long white hair out from under the fabric, letting it fall freely over her back. A silk strip of fabric remained on the chair, she grabbed it and as she was about to tie a thin silk knot around her waist, the sound of his smooth and captivating voice drew her attention.      
"That won't be necessary."    

  
 Tyriel turned to meet the gaze of the figure standing before the door. He was the most handsome creature she had ever seen. He was barefoot and shirtless, loose black pants were the only thing covering his broad, defined build. With his hooded cape gone, she could see his black shoulder length hair, slicked back out of his face revealing the brilliant luster of his violet eyes. His lips fixed but relaxed, there was no smile upon his lips for it showed in his eyes. The fixed gleam in his eyes was telling enough for her to sense his pleasure at the sight of her so bare. 

  
Lips parted into a smile showing her white teeth as she bowed to the man before her. "Master Falon'Din, I am honored by your visit. You have been too kind, I am grateful for the healer you provided me. My recovery was quicker than in the past, Kian is a very gifted individual."    

  
"Indeed, but the growth of his skills are due to my guidance and generosity. I will make sure he remembers such things the next time I order him to care for you." 

    
Tyriel rose from her bow allowing her eyes to meet his again. "I see, you heard where he was going with his disapproval of me. It is no problem, Kian's point is understandable. I agree with him on the value of the care for your soldiers over mine, seeing as I can sleep off my ailment. I can do with one of your less skilled healers if you are still willing to afford me such."      
His eyes abandoned the gleaming smile they had, instead narrowing at her as his jaw clenched. "Do not tell me how to rule over my people. Must I teach you of your place?" His tone took a bitter turn.    

  
She had struck a nerve, although she meant well, it was not acceptable for her to say what she did. She had witnessed him strike down others for lesser offenses, he was showing her mercy, restraining his anger. Tyriel's hugged her arms around herself, letting her sight fall to the ground. "I apologize, I allowed my words to go unchecked. It will not happen again."      
"Count your blessings Inan, for I am a forgiving God."    

  
The sound of the door closing caused Tyriel to avert her sight back to him. He had already advanced towards her, leaving barely any room between their bodies. She was breathing in the heat of his breath just as he was with hers. His arm wrapped around her waist while the fingers of his other hand grasped the bottom of her jaw.    

  
"I'll teach you how to put that rampant tongue of yours to proper use." His words laced with wanton. 

  
His lips melded to hers refusing to allow her time to respond. But she had no desire to object to his lecherous kiss. Although her arms remained wrapped around herself, pressed in place by the force of his body, she could share her feelings in return through her lips. She kissed him back, the soft cushion of her lips embracing his. Slipping her tongue past his soft lips, she flicked her tongue against his.    

  
His tongue grew lively in response, entwining with her's, refusing to let her lead the embrace he initiated. He pulled his grasp from her jaw sliding it over to the side of her face under her ear letting his thumb caress her cheek as the rest of his fingers slid into her soft hair. Their breaths grew heavy, she could feel the heat of his desire emanating from his chest through the cotton of her breast band.    

  
The memory paused and darkened. She did it again, shut him out from the memory that would show him what he wanted to know.      
    
 _No, no, you’re not done._  
    
Josiah was pressing her, but she refused to bend to his will again. Reliving the memory of her time with Falon'Din was enough to weaken any sensation Josiah could trap her with. He did not have Falon'Din's heady magic, dominating presence, or the beauty to rival his. Continuing to allow such a meager man to violate the privacy of her bond with Falon'Din was pathetic. She refused to allow such a basic elvhen noble to manipulate her any longer.    

  
Josiah continued to force the surges of his magic through her but the sudden change in her eyes caught him off-guard. They had cast away his blue pigments that caged her away from their physical world, reclaiming their golden hue. She withdrew her hand violently from his grasp concealing it behind her cloak once more. Her forehead scrunched following the furrow of her brows as her jaw clenched hollowing out her once supple cheeks. The sour expression upon her face was enough to signal Josiah that his trip down memory lane was over.    

  
An amused sigh fell from Josiah's lips as he turned his head to the guard handing back the borrowed dagger. When he returned his sight to Tyriel, her expression hadn't changed, the anger she felt sat like a mask over her facial features.      
"Well, what is your verdict Lord Josiah?" Keeper Ishan asked impatiently.    

  
"She speaks the truth." He said projecting his voice. Josiah didn't bother turning around to face the Dalish Keepers behind him. He had become far too amused with the elvhen woman in front of him with the sour face. "However, due to lack of evidence for why the Evanuris should be free, I am requiring her to state her case before Fen'Harel. After all, he is the only one who can lift the banishment on the pantheon. Tyriel and her companion will remain in my custody until Fen'Harel has made his judgement."    

  
A growl forced its way from Tyriel's throat. He sentenced them to be his pets until the wolf deemed her worthy of a meeting. Who knew how long that could be or if it would even happen. No wonder Josiah was so amused, he now had not just one of Mythal's creations but Falon'Din's lover at that. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was at his beck and call, she needed him to get to Fen'Harel.    

   
Tyriel looked to her side observing Fenris. He stood in the same stance he had when she saw him before Josiah pried through her memory. His face flushed a vibrant red, eyes bulging from rage. She regretted her decision to let him accompany her.      
"Dor will accompany you while I finish up my duties here." Josiah said before pressing his hand against her cheek guiding her view to set on his twisted smile. His voice dropping to a mischievous whisper. "You'd do well to behave yourself, Dor will not tolerate misbehavior."    

  
"You may have made your verdict, but I am not finished with you." The threat spewed from her lips.    

  
His condescending smile lifted all the more as he tried to hold back the laughter that built up in him from her threat. "I would enjoy nothing more although I promise you it won't end the way you think." The flicker of amusement in his blue eyes irritated Tyriel.    

  
Josiah removed his hand from her cheek before striding back to his throne beside the two council men. The elvhen guard that had stood behind Josiah's throne was already advancing toward a door near Josiah's side of the room. It wasn't until he escaped the shelter of the throne she saw the man for what he was, a brute.    

  
His armor differed from the rest of the guards she had seen. He had no elaborate armor to adorn him, he wore a simple tunic and leggings black as spider ichor. He had no weapons visible to her sight. His bulging muscles were apparent even through the relaxed fit of his clothing. The combination of muscles and being weaponless was enough to signal Tyriel that he was an arcane warrior. The grey of his eyes were identical to his grey hair that was secured into a bun. Tyriel couldn't help but think how his parents must have thought themselves clever naming their son Dor. _Grey._    

Tyriel looked back over to Fenris whom was lifting the hood of his cloak over his head. He took a few steps towards her letting the anger from his face radiate towards her. Tyriel opened her mouth to speak but had been cut off.    

"Let's go, I need a drink after this shit." He said resentfully as he walked past her towards Dor who was waiting at the door for them. She followed Fenris' lead, wishing not to keep him here longer than needed.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elven Transaltions:
> 
> Inan- Eyes  
> Dor- Grey  
> Da'len- Little child/ Little one


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

Fenris was mad, infuriated even at the predicament  Tyriel  had landed them in. Being warriors like they were trouble always followed that was nothing new. This was a first for them being under an arrogant prick's authority. He had already escaped slavery before and now she had managed to bring him full circle.  

  
The only benefit to come from this shit is the curvaceous beauty before him. Her name was  Sulahn  which translated to sing and sign she did. Her whines of pleasure so sweet and melodic it was a euphoric sensation to his ears. Each curve and line of her body so symmetrical and perfect. An hourglass figure that made many of her fellow concubines  rosied  from envy. Even  Tyriel  admitted to her jealousy of such a perfectly proportioned woman.  

  
Sulahn's  breasts so big and full, the way they bounced back and forth from Fenris' powerful thrusts was a glorious show of its own. Calloused hands gripped her silky smooth hips, filling the space between his fingers, her body made to fit him. His grip on her was tight, should she lose her balance from his vigor, he would hold her steady without a moment to lose for the next thrust. Her thick, supple ass bucked from zealous plunges. She was his raven haired  halla  and he would ride her into the depths of his pleasure. She liked it just as much as he did; she  had a reputation for her pliability.  

  
There it was again, her melodious cries of ecstasy. She was coming for him again. " Mmhh ... yes, coat my cock in your glossy release." His invite delivered with a demanding, raspy tone.  

  
Sulahn  obliged, her muscles spasming through her release as Fenris ploughed her through with his stiff cock. The rhythmic penetration causing her orgasm to intensify. Her whines of pleasure grew louder echoing off the bedroom walls. The contractions of her heat encasing his cock was pushing Fenris to his brink. Scattered pearls of sweat decorated his tan white-veined skin. It was coming like the cadence of an ocean wave, drawing back before it surges against the sandy shore. She got him close before but he wasn't ready to give in, there was more he wanted to pound into her. But now she had earned his seed every drop he had to spare.  

  
The combination of her warm, spasming heat with his deep dives did him in. His once rapid bursts of breath extended into heavy exhales. His thrusts abruptly halted, one had remained on her hip while the other extended forward gripping her shoulder. He held her still while small waves of his seed seeped into her warm heat.  Sulahn  purred as she felt the pulse of his cock as he came.  

  
Fenris released his grasp on  Sulahn  falling backwards against the bed, propping himself on his elbows. He sat watching  Sulahn  remain on all fours as she turned around to face him. Her light brown eyes staring at him and his glistening glory. Her pink  pillowy  lips lifted into a playful smile. Long cascading curls of black draped her back and over her shoulders framing her pale heart shaped face.  

  
"Are you pleased with my service?" Her voice so low and breathy.  

  
"I am my sweet songstress," A mischievous smirk lifted from his lips as he stared at her wantonly. "but your skills are still needed."  

  
A soft laugh danced from her lips. "Is that so?"  

  
"It appears there is a spill I need you to clean but I can't promise to remain idle."  

  
Sulahn  slid her hand around his base firmly grasping his syrup coated cock while the other pressed against the bed supporting her stance. Her eyes didn't leave Fenris' gaze for even a second as her plush lips glided over the head of his glazed cock. The taste of their melded cum so sweet and salty, a treat all on its own.  

  
A sigh of pleasure poured from his throat. She had barely started as was already enticing him for another round. The way her lips slipped further down his cock claiming each cum coated inch with her warm, wet mouth was sublime. Her sight stayed fixed on him, watching each breath and expression of wanting he had to display made him horny. He could feel it, his cock stiffening and elongating within her embrace.  

  
She knew, she felt him harden in her mouth. It wasn't until the sweet and salty taste had dissolved that she took control. She pulled her mouth from his cock, releasing her grip to crawl over him, mounting him. Her bountiful breasts falling forward, her right nipple pressed against his lips as she settled her pink swollen heat over the length of his cock. Her walls embracing every deepening inch he had to offer. Fenris followed her lead, sucking on her breast while his tongue flicked her erect nipple. This time she would ride him into the depths of her desire.     
  
\-------------------------     
  
While Fenris was having his fun with  Sulahn ,  Tyriel  had been left with  Dor , the giant babysitter. Regardless, she owed Fenris from their deal for earlier and  Dor  isn't so bad. It is just awkward having someone watching her so closely and having to be aware of it the whole time. It had been a long day, and she didn't know what to expect from Josiah while being stuck in his care so a bath at a bath house made sense. 

  
The bath house was a beautiful sigh all on its own. Giant abstract stones adhered to each other, creating a domelike structure. It took quite a few talented mages to get the stones to hold their petrified positions. The cracks left between each stone functioned as fissures for the steam to escape. 

  
It was steam from the mineral baths that watered these clusters of flowers that claimed the region of these stones. An intricate net of white wisteria veins and violet clematis ascended its uneven, abrasive surface reaching over the highest peak. Woven between the steamy fissures and trailing vines bloomed roses of vivid reds and pinks. The flowers knitted together so beautifully, an orchestra of florals. 

  
Tyriel  grabbed one of the thin orange robes from the women's changing room. The sleeves were wide and stopped at her elbows while the overall length reached her knees. The color was vibrant but not overbearing and even when wet it didn't become sheer. She kept to the big community bath since getting a private bath would leave her stuck in a small room with  Dor  staring her down.  

  
She wore her robe into the water, joining the various others in the bath robed and nude. The bath house was more than just baths, it offered food, drink, lodging, and prostitutes. Nudity wasn't a big ordeal like it used to be, both the  Elvhen  and Elven races were encouraged to reproduce to increase their dwindled population. The goal is to reach or succeed the population that had claimed  Thedas  before "the cleansing". After all nothing gets the blood pumping more than booze and beautiful bodies on display.  

  
The community bath was clear with a gentle blue hue. Tiny minerals smaller than grains of sand floated within its watery embrace. Scattered patches of bubbles hovered over the watery surface remnants from the fragrant soaps others had used.  Tyriel  saw a lady beside her that was emptying a bottle of soap into her hands and was kind enough to spare some.  Tyriel  scrubbed her scalp before working her way down her hair spreading the citrus scented soap to the ends of her hair. She dunked her head under the water as she rinsed away the soapy coat entwined in her hair.  

  
Tyriel  rose from the bath wringing the excess water from her long twisted locks as stepped out of the bath. There it was again,  Dor's  stone stare fixed on her while she wrangled her wet white strands into a bun. An exhale slipped through her lips as she advanced towards him closing the gap of space between them.  

  
"Why are you staring at me like that?" She was growing annoyed and her body language spoke louder than her tone. Her weight falling harder on one side while her hip stuck out on the other. Her arms crossed over her chest as if she could hug her robe any more tightly than it already did in its dampened state.  

  
Dor  sat arms crossed and one leg resting over the other. An arc rose in his right eyebrow. "What a ridiculous question." He scoffed. "You are aware it is my duty to watch you."  

  
"Yes but you don't have to stare me down like that, I'm not going to run away."  

  
"You mistake my intent, I am doing what Lord Josiah has ordered, whether it is to your liking or not is irrelevant. And as for your provocative behavior..."  

  
"Provocative behavior?"  Tyriel  snapped in disbelief, her stance stiffening in defense.  

  
"Yes, you force me to accompany you to a bath house full of booze and prostitutes while your companion goes off with one escort leaving me to watch you. I am baffled that you,  Mythal's  creation would strip down to such indecency. Your fellow creations rose to Godhood while you bathe in a cesspool of whores and naked men. But by all means, please justify yourself while in your skimpy little wet robe."  

  
Tyriel's  cheeks and chest flushed a perky pink. She had misread the situation entirely. The plan of addressing  Dor  was to break the awkwardness, but she had made it worse. There was only one thing she could think to do. Abort! Turning on her heels she bolted to the women's dressing room refusing to look back at  Dor's  judgmental glare. 

  
The damp orange robe slapped against the stone floor the moment she passed the threshold. Yanking her dark brown leggings and boots up before wrapping up her breast band and flinging over her plum colored tunic. The tunic was long sleeved and oversized leaving her right shoulder bare. She balled up her cloak in her hands as she left the dressing room. 

  
Dor  was waiting for her in the same spot he had been sitting since they arrived.  Tyriel  walked but not in his direction, she instead veered to her left pacing down a hall lined with multiple entryways along the outer wall. Long heavy sheets blocked their entrances as spirals of steam billowed out from the open crevasse. The hallway was long and curved outwards to the left like a semicircle. She didn't stop to wait for  Dor  among the clouds of steam seeping around her. She walked on until she made it to the restaurant in the front-of-house sitting herself at the bar.  

  
It was less than a minute before  Dor  sat himself at the bar beside her. He turned his head towards  Tyriel  his lips pressed in irritation. "You said you would not run away."  

  
Tyriel  raised an eyebrow giving him a lopsided smile. "I'm in the same establishment we have been. I knew you would be right behind me."  

  
"I advise you stop trying my patience."  

  
" Elgara , my sun eyed beauty!" A male voice chimed from behind the bar, his feet dashing to following the trail of his call. He was shorter than the average elven man and tanner too. The bangs of his golden hair braided back giving way to amber eyes. He was the most spastic and flirtatious man she had ever encountered.  

  
" Elgara ?"  Dor  asked  Tyriel  bewildered.  

  
"It is a security measure all agents of my establishment take."  Zevran  said candidly as he laid his arms over the top of the bar leaning over them. "Some guest can get a little overbearing or territorial with my staff. I mean I can't blame them for falling in love, after all I only recruit the most beautiful and talented for my Dew of Desires. Anyways, what can I do for you and your friend, my moon haired vixen?"  

  
"I'll have some water and my usual."  Tyriel  said before turning to Dor. "What would you like Grey?"  Dor  sat still acting as if he didn't hear her. She was unfazed by his statuesque stance instead turning back to  Zevran . "Make that two of everything."     
"As you wish my little minx. Would you or Grey be interested in some companionship?"  Zevran  saturated his last word with lust. The breathy tone that earned  Zevran  so many lovers sounded plain ridiculous to  Tyriel  but she would never tell him.     
"No!"  Dor  spewed, a disgusted expression painted across his  stoneface . His fingers pressed against the bridge of his nose, lips thin from being scrunched together. 

  
Zevran  bowed and left to put in their order.  Tyriel  couldn't help but laugh at  Dor  with his ridiculous expression. She could only imagine the ideas and images racing through his imagination. As enjoyable as it was she decided to break the silence. "So... what do you think of my boss?" She asked  tyring  to sound sincere, but it was obvious she was taunting him.     
"The All-Mother is rolling in her grave, her creation is nothing more than a mere whore. I can only imagine her disappointment at-"  

  
"Oh shut up!"  Tyriel  interjected.  

  
"Don't address me like one of your clients, woman!" He barked. 

  
"Stop it you're making a scene!" She growled at him, her golden eyes glaring at him. "I am not a concubine. Fenris and I do independent work for  Zevran . We don’t work here at the bath house. Fenris handles jobs like debt collections and business security. I help  Zevran  pick through the recruited women and do 'fortune telling' gigs to boost business, which is more me just reading the individual's soul. It's not a preferred style of life but I make do with what I can get." 

  
Silence was the only thing filling the space between them even after their food arrived. It was awkward between them again. The grey giant and the pale haired fortuneteller, an odd pair to say the least.  Tyriel  was more than grateful when a familiar friend approached the bar beside her. 

  
" Sulahn , how are you doing?" She asked relieved.  

  
"I'm alive, he worked up quite the drive. What happened this time?" Her skin was flushed and drenched in sweat, long black curls secured into a messy ponytail. Her eyes didn't meet  Tyriel's  they sat fixated on the glass of cold water set before  Tyriel .  

  
Tyriel  laughed, handing  Sulahn  her glass of water. Creators know she could use it... "I haven't seen Fenris, is he getting dressed?"  

  
"I'm glad you mentioned him..." She paused chugging down the glass of water before continuing. "He passed out drunk in the room."  

  
Tyriel's  brows furrowed into a knot from sheer confusion. "If he is asleep, why are you covered in sweat and panting?"  

  
"Oh this?" She asked looking down at herself and all her curved glistening glory. "This is from my last client I just finished with."  

  
Dor  leaned over eyeing  Sulahn  in disbelief. Whether it was from her gorgeous body or the fact that Fenris was drunk and passed out  Tyriel  wasn't sure. "What room is he in?"  

  
"Third door down the right hall."  

  
Dor  got up without another word leaving  Tyriel  to scrabble behind him.  

  
"Shit." She said under her breath tossing a few gold coins from the pocket of her leggings. As she turned to go after him she put her hand on  Sulahn's  shoulder. "You can have the rest of his water too, I'm sure you need it."  

  
He was already at the door of Fenris' room when  Tyriel  caught up to him. As he went to open the door, she grasped his hand within hers pulling the door shut. "Don't!" She exclaimed.  

  
"I have been sitting here waiting for your drunken friend for hours, we are leaving now. Lord Josiah is waiting for you."  

  
"I promise we will leave. But please, let me make sure he is decent, for both your sakes."  

  
He stood frozen for a moment before he let out a sigh releasing his grip from the door handle and  Tyriel's  grasp. He took a step back lifting his arm out towards the door signaling her to go into the room.  

  
Tyriel  cracked the door open just enough for her slim figure to slide in closing it behind her. The naked heap before her was an amusing sight all on its own. This wasn't the first or last time she would have to care Fenris' drunk ass. She dressed his limp body as fast as she could. His shirt and briefs were easy enough, but it was his leggings that were difficult. He always wore the tightest leggings, something she would never understand about him.  

  
While she was slipping Fenris' boots on  Dor  pushed through the door. "I have waited long enough, time to go. Whatever clothes he is missing shove in the sacks and bring them with us. I will carry him."  

  
He didn't wait for a response, flinging Fenris over his bulky shoulder as if he was light as a pillow. She grabbed the straps of the sacks, rushing to keep pace with  Dor  who was already making his way down the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elven Translation:  
> Dor- Grey  
> Sulahn- Sing  
> Elgara- Sun


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This photo is my inspiration for Josiah.  
> I have no claim to this photo.  
> Credit to Sakimichan on Deviantart.

 

[Josiah Inspiration](http://sakimichan.deviantart.com/art/Elf-prince-682126898?src=MC_deviation_stack)

 

Tyriel followed Dor as he led them through the dark veilfire lit city back to the House of Councils. Fenris was out cold, snoring over Dor's shoulder the whole way here. The guards stationed outside the entry door recognized the behemoth of a man, opening the door for them without a word. The hallway was just as bleak and sterile as it was hours ago just dark and empty this time. They pushed past the door leading into the meeting chamber diverging to the left side of the room where more guards stood before the door. Three guards seemed a little much in Tyriel's opinion but once the door before them opened it made sense.   

  
There were three active eluvians, one placed against each wall of the room. The two on opposing walls had silver frames one with etchings of trees with crystal pillars protruding from their roots while the other had carvings of bows and swords wrapped in vines of elfroot and embrium flowers. It was the eluvian in the center that caught her eyes. Wolves of gold sat upright on each side as the head of a large wolf protruded downward from the top. Two large rubies represented its eyes but below each eye sat a pair of two smaller rubies. The eluvian itself was active but clearly sealed, the surface smooth and still while the other two rippled with life.   

  
"That is not for you." Dor said pulling her arm to her left, directing her to the eluvian with silver crystal trees.     
He pushed her through the cold rippling surface refusing to release his grip until he had stepped through as well. The room was dim, lit by white veilfires and candles with orange flickering flames. Towering shelves of books lined the majority of the room while large barren widows let light from the stars create a pale pathway along the floor. A long oval table sat in the middle of the room surrounded by chairs.   

  
Even upon arriving at Josiah's estate, Dor refused to release his grasp. He dragged her behind him out of the study and down the hall where he came across two members of the house staff. A man with short black hair and brown eyes and a woman with brown hair and green eyes.   

  
"Take this one to his room." Dor said dumping Fenris into the man's arms abruptly. With his hand now free, Dor turned towards Tyriel yanking the two sacks she had slung over her shoulder to the woman servant. "Put the bags in her room."     
They were unfazed by his brashness, carrying the burdens he gave to them. "As you wish." That is all they said before walking around her and Dor, advancing further down the dimly lit hall. He went to pull her arm again but Tyriel turned her body away from him, retracting her arm from his grasp. "I can follow you on my own!" She snapped.   

  
Dor didn't bother answering her, we walked forward leaving her to pick up the pace behind his broad figure. She followed him through the halls, past the grand entrance of the mansion into the foyer. It was such a cliché sight. A large room with rich tapestries hanging along the walls, tall back arm chairs, scattered side tables, a roaring fireplace made of black marble.     
The fireplace was where he stood, one arm laying atop the mantle holding his leaning body weight. A loose flowing white tunic, the ties of his shirt unraveled and relaxed, black pants barely clung to his waist, the hems of the legs brushed against the floor. A glass of dark wine delicately hung between his slender fingers. Long unbound blonde hair fell over his back and shoulders. He turned his head to meet the sight of Tyriel and Dor who stood in the entryway of the room.   

  
"Thank you Dor, you may retire for the evening." His voice cool and relaxed.   

  
Tyriel saw Dor bow from her peripheral view before he left, his once loud steps echoing into silence as he retreated to another area of the mansion. She didn't tale her eyes off Josiah, nor did he with her.   

  
"Please," He said stepping towards her away from the fireplace, signaling her with the roll of his wrist to sit in one of the seats before sitting down himself. "join me. I wish to address some things with you."   

  
It wasn't much of a request as it was a demand. Where was she to go? What options did she have at this point? She obliged him pacing across the room settling herself in the chair to her right. Josiah sat back in his chair, legs leaning outward in a relax position. The slight hint of a smile playing upon his lips. "Where is your companion?"   

  
"He is sleeping at the moment." Tyriel crossed her arms, pressing her back against the chair. "What is it you want Josiah?" Her tone remained low but the impatient bite was clear.   

  
Josiah snickered at her as if she was so amusing. A toy. A jester. "We are immortals, there is no need for brashness but if you prefer directness I will indulge you. My tongue can cut as sharp as yours." The tip of his index finger dancing along the rim of his glass. "Tell me your concise reasons for wanting the evanuris freed."   

  
"You imposed yourself on my memories, you already have your answers."   

  
"I want to hear the words from your mouth. Answer my questions and I will return the favor."   

  
Tyriel's eyes winced at his offer. It caught her off-guard but if he kept to his word, Josiah could prove a useful ally when facing Fen'Harel. "It is as you saw, I am the last of Mythal's creations and I was one of Falon'Din's many lovers. What you didn't see is the world as I see it today, even here in your home, are souls floating aimlessly around us. Without Falon'Din there is no one to guide them beyond the void which makes my purpose meaningless. I refuse to let my creation be worth nothing but most of all I refuse to let these souls suffer for Fen'Harel's failures. He must pay for his crimes to the people and the pantheon."   

  
He placed his glass on the small wooden table beside him before turning his focus back to her. "I see. So you ultimately wish to kill Fen'Harel?" His stare was heavy, she could feel it, its weight on her as if gravity was pushing her further into the chair.     
"I only wish to kill him should he be guilty of Mythal's murder."   

  
"And what if he is innocent?"   

  
"Then the evanuris can decide what they wish to do with him for their imprisonment." Her voice had risen, she was getting too defensive. A sigh fell from her chest as she gathered herself together. "My turn, you say you're family was of Elvhen nobility..." She watched for his nod of acknowledgement. "What god was your family loyal to?"   

  
He spoke so smoothly. Watching closely for her reaction. "Dirthamen."   

  
The twin of her lover, the son of her creator. Although Josiah had shown himself to be a salacious man, if his family is loyal to Dirthamen, he was a worthy ally. The few Elvhen that remained understood and respected their service to the gods.   

  
She rose from her chair, standing before him with her hand extended outwards. "If your family served Dirthamen and you are a man of honor, help me gain their freedom."   

  
Josiah sat laughing at her chivalrous display. Tyriel didn't understand what was so funny. She felt foolish standing there with her empty hand. She could feel it, from the base of her chest all the way to the points of her ears, she was flustered. Twice in the same day, these Elvhen men were on a roll and it was all at her expense.   

  
"Have you already forgotten I am on Fen'Harel's council? What am I to do with your pathetic pact?" He looked her over, a mischievous smirk played along his lips. "And the few things you have to bargain with you are reluctant to offer."   

  
Tyriel withdrew her hand clenching it at her side in annoyance. "You're damn right, I won't whore myself to you for your favor!" Her right arm was spasming, an eagerness to slap him to his senses.   

  
He rose from his chair, the height of his body towering over hers. There was no such thing as boundaries to him, whether it is her memories, physical space, or dignity, he would impose himself. "And what about your memories?" 

   
"What do I get?" She asked through the low growl in her throat.   

  
"A much needed patron for this endeavor of yours." His left eyebrow arced, portraying his cockiness.   

  
Tyriel could only assume he enjoyed her predicament or still coming on to her. Whether she liked him or not, she had been unsuccessful getting to Fen'Harel on her own, she needed him.   

  
She swallowed the knot in her throat an attempt to fight back the unnerving sensation urging her against her resolve. With a step back she lifted her hand towards him, offering her sliced index finger.   

  
That gesture is all he needed, their deal struck. Everything in the room except the burning fire had disappeared leaving only a hazy black coat around them. A large glyph appeared beneath her feet filling the width of his barrier. The glyph gleamed a violet-red, pulsing vigorously beneath her feet. Tyriel was unfamiliar with this magic Josiah was using. But it was the sight of Josiah that caused her heart to pound heavy like thunder. The reflect of heated flames consumed his glacier eyes. Josiah's cool blue aura followed suit shifting to a deep red, its ethereal arms waving and reaching for her.   

  
Golden honey eyes grew wide, the push of a gasp forced from her throat. She felt the kick of adrenaline like the rush of water over the edge of the falls. She was frightened by the dark change consuming Josiah and reacted the only way she knew. Tyriel gripped his shoulder with the hand she already had raised while the other thrusted forward towards his solar plexus. She would grip his dark soul and learn who she was dealing with.   

  
The slam of her palm against his abdomen surprised her. It didn't materialize like it should have, it was as whole as the rest of her body. The purpose of his glyph made sense now, it was there to neutralize her magic. He had predicted her reaction. Josiah didn't hesitate to react, sending the limb-like strands of his aura coiling up her arms, twining over every curve of her body. His red strands seared her clothes decorating the floor with their ashen pieces. Leaving his red veins to snake around her tighter.   

  
Tyriel gritted he teeth in pain, the grasp wasn't only tight but hot. "What the fuck are you?" She growled as her grip on his shoulder tightened.   

  
"I am your ally" He replied jeeringly as he slid his fingers into her hair undoing her loosely held bun. "and a powerful one at that."   

  
Tyriel's glare narrowed on him but he remained unperturbed, pressing the pads of his fingers against her scalp.     
"Drop your defenses, let me examine freely or I will have to do this with you unconscious." The palm of his other hand pressed against her solar plexus, the tips of his fingers filling the gap between her now bare breast. He was threatening her, making his intent to dominate her obvious.   

  
She could feel it, the wall that was his hand unmoving against her deep rapid breaths. Even through the twisted smile that played upon his lips, his flaming eyes told her of his stern intent. She submitted. The grips she had on his abdomen and shoulder retreated to their rightful place along the sides of her body. Her tense shoulders dropped, releasing the constriction they had held.   

  
The red tendrils melded into her skin, snaking their trails under her pale surface. Tyriel battled with her will to be still and endure but it burned. A cage of fire constricting her tall frame. The raging red glow of his tendrils faded, leaving veins of scarlet in their wake. Josiah's magic pooled within the pads of his fingers acting as anchors for the waves of memories he drew.   

  
The flood of various memories overwhelmed her. It was a painful pull on her very being. Tears descended heated cheeks. Rasped cries were all she had to release the misery she felt.   

  
Josiah hand left her abdomen wrapping his arm around her back, pressing her into his lean figure. "Do what you must."     
He was giving her another outlet, his body. An act of mercy to ease her suffering and she took it. Red veined arms wrapped around him, nails clawing into his back through a meager white tunic. Her mouth gnawing the arch of his shoulder. The fabric of his shirt moistened with her salivation. Muffled cries continued to pour for her raw throat.   

  
His draw from her took longer than it had earlier that day. She knew it had been quite some time by the feel of his back alone. The back of his shirt shredded and wet, from what she could only guess was his blood. The skin she felt under the tips of her fingers was abrasive and swollen. She had clawed him up like a cat with a rug. Her teeth pierced his shoulder, his metallic taste coated her tongue. She clung to him, a drop of water to parched sand.   

  
Josiah didn’t so much as wince from her carnivorous embrace. He held her, waiting for her to initiate the release. And when she finally did, she realized the room was back as it was before. The chairs beside them, the rich tapestries, everything except for her clothes that is...   

  
There she stood before him embarrassed and exposed. The heat in her cheeks refusing to fade to their neutral hue. Even so, she didn't bother covering herself there was no point. Josiah knew her every curve, scar, and secret that comprised her existence. Being vulnerable in front of him was a bizarre feeling. He was a stranger, an enigma. She knew so very little about him and after this deranged embrace he knew everything about her. The melodious sound of his smooth voice broke their awkward silence. 

"Your room is upstairs fourth door on the left. Get some sleep. You have a hearing with Fen'Harel tomorrow." 

"What? When was this established?" 

There it was, that devious lopsided grin he wore all too often. That is all he had to give her in response. Josiah, that shifty bastard played her. The meeting had been established before she and Fenris had ever made it to the mansion. This was just a ploy to get all the information he wanted on her. He is on Fen'Harel's council yet he promised to help her free the evanuris regardless if Fen'Harel refused. If this deal taught Tyriel anything about her supposed "ally" it's that Josiah is on a side of his own. 


	6. Chapter 6

Inspiration for [Dor](http://www.iamag.co/features/the-art-of-choi-yongjae/#jp-carousel-104820) and [Fen'Harel](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/81/1a/59/811a5914e6fc787e645fe038c6bcdf03.jpg).

Disclaimer: I do not own these photos, I am merely inspired by them.

 

 

Fenris and Tyriel were blindfolded as to not see where they were going. Thick metal cuffs bound them, its hard, cold surface gripping the delicate flesh of their wrists. Josiah told them they were going to be separated. Dor would keep Fenris with him while Josiah takes Tyriel to Fen'Harel.   

They travelled through a labyrinth of eluvians. With her sight blacked out, the only way she could tell she passed through an eluvian was when she felt a cool surface rippling around her skin. Each eluvian they passed through brought a new wave of scents and climates that distinguished each destination from the previous one.  

This destination was different from the others, there were voices passing by. Many were casual while she could hear the whispers of others asking and commenting on Josiah's prisoners. The fact that these people knew Josiah by name was a somewhat comforting notion, it meant that they were somewhere that people knew each other on a name basis and knew what she was to him. It had been some time since they passed through the last eluvian, another sign they were where they needed to be. She heard the clinks of Fenris' chains start to drift away from her side.  

Josiah led her through more halls and down stairs until they had made it somewhere outside. She could feel the warmth of sunlight against her bare arms. The caress of the breeze feathered against her silky green dress causing the fabric to dance in its wake. She heard the sway of trees with their fluttering leaves, natures wind chimes. Notes of jasmine and sweet citrus entwined with the breeze enveloping her nose with each breath.  

"Who have you brought for us this time Josiah?" One of the voices teased.  

A mix of sneers and laughter followed causing Tyriel's cheeks to rosy a soft pink. Josiah stopped pulling her just short of the man's jest. He had taken her to some kind of platform, the grainy stone surface warmed the bottom of her bare feet.  

"Hands to yourself Katar, she is above your class." Josiah said sliding his thumb under the edge of the blindfold lifting its dark cover.   

Josiah stepped in front of her view, releasing the harsh bounds from her wrists. Their cold hard exterior clapped against the warm stone. She looked down at her wrist massaging the tender areas left from his restraining cuffs. When she looked back up Josiah had abandoned her side claiming his seat among his fellow faction. Settling himself in he leaned back, elbow propped on the armrest as he let the weight of his head pressed against his fist.  

Everyone but her was shaded from the vibrant rays. A large stone pergola stood atop the stone platform beneath her feet. Large white sheets draped over the top descending over each side. Thick gold threaded ropes secure the loose flowing fabric against each column allowing only the hems to flutter with the airs gentle current.  

Tyriel observed each individual taking note of their appearance and souls. There were ten advisors total, eight males and two females. Two female house staff accompanied them filling their glasses and entertaining them with their good looks and charm. However, none of them were bald and three of the seven men had blue eyes not including Josiah. Their souls varied in color and liveliness but none stood out. None of them presented a soul with vigor or an emptiness that signaled a soul being concealed.  

It had been so long since she'd seen Fen'Harel and the last time she met him was a brief pass-by when leaving one of her visits with Mythal. He wore a cloak shadowing his features away from view. All she had to go off of was the bare-bone description of him that was rumored about when describing the elven apostate who betrayed the Inquisition and his own lover. A pale elven man, tall and lean, a bald head and blue eyes.  

"She is one of Mythal's creations?" Inquired one of the female advisors.  

Her sense of disbelief wove through her words. She leaned forward in her seat as if to get a better look. Her green eyes fixated, looked Tyriel up and down observing her for some sign of significance. She wasn't the only one studying her. The others seated with her stared intensely, deliberating amongst themselves.  

_Were they waiting for some extravagant display? A testimony of her godly ties? Was this woman's question not rhetorical?_ Tyriel considered to herself.  

"Indeed, she is Yura. Tyriel is Mythal's final creation." A man to her left answered.   

He sat slackly in his seat, legs leaning open, one hand resting behind his neck while the other laid upon his armrest. Tight black leggings clung to his taut figure almost giving away the definition of his manhood were it not for the length of his long dark tunic sheltering him. He was a different kind of attractive compared to the elvhen men she had encountered. There was something enticing about the way he was so relaxed yet controlled the surrounding ambiance.  

The sides of his head were shaved leaving only hair on the top of his head. His long black hair was gathered into multiple braids ranging in size. They were tied back leaving only the ends of his braids to fall over his right shoulder. A small wolf skull adorned his head like a crown, the tips of its teeth pointing down to his steel blue eyes. Freckles peppered his pale skin. One side of his beautiful lips lifted displaying a sly smile.  

"I assume Josiah has told you about me."  

Her gaze averted back to Josiah, eyeing him firmly. Josiah's pokerface sat at the ready as always. His face didn't portray even the slightest change in expression. That smug smile was his favorite mask of all.  

_I will enjoy ripping your cocky smile from that beautiful face of yours._  She mused to herself.  

"Only the basics of your previous encounter, Keepers Ishan and Virion had much more to say on the matter." Replied the black haired man to her left.  

Tyriel looked back to him as he continued.  

"Though I am curious as to why." He leaned forward using his armrests to push himself swiftly up. His long legs paced towards her quick and light. "Walk with me." He said passing her.  

There it was, the invitation she was waiting for... Tyriel turned following his quick pace. She trailed him deeper into his lush garden. A canopy of trees and efflorescent buds swathed over and around them. A cocoon of interwoven glory, vibrant and fragrant. There was no sight of the large structure she walked blindly through or the pergola that shaded him and his advisors.   

Nature enveloped the world around them allowing only light from the sky above to interrupt its lush confinements. The crisp grass crinkled under his nimble feet as he walked beneath the low hanging limbs of an enormous wisteria tree. He left her standing on their grassy path as he stood behind a blend of purple hues flooded the trailing branches, creating a haven of lilac colored drapes.   

"Tell me," he said looking back towards her, as his long fingers danced sweetly over the bundles of fragrant petals. "what is it you want."  

"I want you to release the pantheon."  

"Why?" He asked coolly.  

"You know as well as I that the pantheon as a whole did not kill Mythal. In fact, I'm sure it wasn't any of the those you banished who killed her. Your fable is flawed." Her soft petal lips lifted into a priggish smile.  

The furrow in his brow was the only response he gave. His silence signaled her to continue.  

She spoke proudly as she crossed her arms, letting her hip lean outward. "You tricked them into looking for a magical weapon to destroy the forgotten ones that doesn't exist. Then you locked them away using Mythal's murder as your justification for their banishment. But if that was so why would you lock away the forgotten ones with the same lie yet not accuse them of her murder? If the pantheon had planned to murder anyone, it would have been you Dread Wolf."  

She watched as he withdrew his caress from the blossoms, arms folding over his taut chest. His muscles stiffened beneath his tight clothing, their definition displayed prominently through the fabric. He glared at her, refusing to blink or break contact.   

"Mythal was the only evanuris worthy of her stature."  

His voice raised with irritation.  

"All the others including your beloved Falon'Din played a part in her murder. They are all guilty. I will not lift their banishment, they must suffer for their crimes. Not just for Mythal but for all the wrongs they had done. Mythal created you and gave you free will. Does her murder not weigh upon you?"  

"It does, I love my creator-"  

That was all she could get out before he interjected. "How could you desire their freedom?"   

"I cannot carry out the purpose of my creation without him. Mythal gave me life, she gave me purpose. I will not be a worthless trinket wandering this new world you made."  

Her tone softened as empathy bloomed within her heart. Her arms unfolded as she placed the palms of her hands over her solar plexus where her soul remained still sheathed. She looked at him her honey eyes laden with rue.  

"The souls of the dead are lost, trying to find their way to the beyond. Their variegated orbs fill the air around us like pollen in spring. You have trapped them in this world, separating them from their final resting place. They need Falon'Din, he is the only one who can guide them to the beyond."  

"How virtuous of you," He taunted. "I take it you being one of Falon'Din's inamoratas is an insignificant fact to consider."  

She tsked at him. "My personal affairs are irrelevant. What I said is the truth. Any facts or speculations you wish to add doesn't change that."  

"The ulterior motives you have change everything." He snapped. "It's disappointing how your twisted concept of love has made you blind. Thousands of years have passed and you are still infatuated with him."  

"I have no need for relationship advice from a Trickster god. You who hides in the shadows, disguising your soul like a commoner. I came for answers not a lecture." She chided.  

A snicker pushed from his throat befroe his condescending tone addressed her. "Very well, I'll give you the answers you seek." 

His blue eyes sharpened as the appearance of his soul shifted. Entrancing shades of green whipped vivaciously from his solar plexus. The hues so strong and majestic they expanded outwards creating a beautiful aura around him. She had seen only Falon'Din and Mythal's souls a scarce amount of times in the past. Each soul is different reflecting the uniqueness of the individual. But it was the gods who bore the most beautiful and spirited souls.   

The excess energy of his soul skittered against their hanging branches of the wisteria. Even as he advanced towards her lilac blossoms fluttered down through the air around them. Tyriel felt her heart thrumming like a hummingbird's wings within her chest. It was beating so swiftly yet she couldn't find the breath to breathe. The way the blossoms rained around Fen'Harel's with his radiating soul captivated her. Tyriel stood frozen as he stopped before her letting only the blossoms of the wisteria fall between them.   

His eyebrow arched upwards emphasizing his smugness. "I remember the sight of you and your golden soul as you left Mythal's temple. I know who and what you are, stop trying to hide from me and show yourself."  

His domineering voice caused her pale skin to blush. A flush of pink rose from the apples of her cheeks up to the tips of her ears.   

She thwarted his intense gaze looking down at her abdomen where her palms remained resting over her solar plexus. A flood of crisp floral air filled her lungs as she inhaled deeply holding it in for a moment. She dispelled the guard over her soul as she released the sweet air from her lips.  

A warm golden glow expanded from beneath her palms. Its virile energy and divine hues flourished, encasing her with its heavenly glow. A repetitious sound of crackles cut through the soft rhythm of fluttering leaves and swaying trees as the perimeter of her aura pressed against his. The energy of their souls collided, her golden warmth against his electrifying vigor.  

It was Fen'Harel's hand that passed the threshold of their energies as he pulled Tyriel's hands down from her from her abdomen pressing his palm against her in their stead.  

"Wha.. what do you think-" she stammered as she raised her hands in an attempt to remove his. But he was faster, his free hand caught one of hers in midair. She pulled back trying to free herself from his grasp but it only caused him to tighten his grip. He pressed her palm against his solar plexus leaving each one of them with one of their palms upon the others soul.  

"I will make you see the truth what you refuse to accept." His voice was sharp following suit of the glare he was giving her with his cerulean eyes.  

Tyriel didn't know what to say. Her mind raced with a blend of curiosity and caution. The beat of her heart was pulsed heavily against his palm like a war drum.  

"Be silent and listen the truth I have to give, feel its validity in my soul as I impart it to you."  

Her hand gripped his wrist tighter as if her grasp would grant her some form of protection from what he had to say.  

"I did not kill Mythal." His tone was firm.  

The pain he felt poured from his tone, expression, and his soul. She could sense it within him, the sadness and longing for his friend. There was the sting of regret in his soul. He felt guilty for being unable to prevent her murder. It was those melancholy eyes of his that caused her to loosen her grip on his wrist. Her hand slid upwards from his wrist to his hand gently laying it over his.  

"Please," she started as she looked at him through glossy eyes. "forgive me for my ignorance."   

A slight soft smile lifted from the side of his lips.  

Tyriel smiled back at him as a wave of relief washed over her. They stood in silence for a moment letting themselves gather themselves together. 

"What are we going to do Fen'Harel?" She asked.  

"You and I are the last ties the people have to the pantheon. Although I do not wish to rule as a god or you as one either, the people find comfort in the few things that have survived the fall." His words taking an optimistic tone as he continued. "You may join my council, venture where you wish, or continue the life you have already made. You are free to choose what you want to be."  

Her brows kitted together displaying her confusion. "What about the evanuris?" She asked ambivalently.  

She could feel his chest tense beneath her hand. His eyes narrowed on her as if he could sense she was going to say something he didn’t want to hear.   

"What of them?" He asked lowly the vibrations of his growl fluttering against her palm.  

He posed it as a question but he knew where this was going. She had just gotten into his good graces and was just as ready to lose it. It wasn't so much a question as it was challenge. He was daring her to ask, to defy his judgement, to oppose him.   

"We need to find and kill her murderer." She felt him pulling his hand away from her abdomen, but was held captive in her grasp. Her slender fingers gripped his hand like a knot in his long black hair. She clung to him continuing her plea. "These souls need to be taken to the beyond. We must free Falon'Din, he could help us find his mother's murderer."  

Her tenacious grasp only angered him further. The energy of his soul expanded, growing all the more vigorous as she continued to cling to him. His vibrant green aura crashed over her like a tidal wave encasing her golden aura and himself within its intangible confinement.  

His eyebrows furrowed, and lips pressed together as he grimaced at her.  

"The evanuris will remain where they are." He growled, yanking away her hand that pressed against his abdomen, twisting it backwards. His other hand that she clung to followed suit turning her wrist painfully.  

Tyriel dropped to her knees from the induced strain to her wrists. She tried to fight against his hold but his grip was unwavering.   

"These souls are our people how can you ignore them like they are less than the dirt beneath your feet?" She gritted her teeth as he tightened his grip. 

His blue eyes faded leaving only white orbs glaring down at her from his tall height. A white mist of energy emanated from them as he twisted her wrist further. The tension in her wrist grew unbearable causing her to yelp from the tension. Tears began to form in her eyes accumulating along her lower lashes.   

"I owe you no explanation. My judgment is absolute." He leaned his head lower towards hers, the ends of his many braids fell over his shoulders brushing against the sides of her face. His tone a callous whisper, "Have you finished testing my patience or am I going to have to break one of your frail little wrists?"  

Tyriel couldn't help the swell of disappointment she felt. She thought she had made progress with the wolf only for it to backfire. He is innocent of Mythal's murder but he is still a murderer, nonetheless. First the fall of Elvhenan, then the cleanse of Thedas, and now an eternity of wandering and loneliness for dead souls of their people. He is like lyrium in elvhen form alluring and vibrant yet corrupt and ruthless. 

He stared at her intently, watching the rapid rise and fall of her chest. She remained silent gathering her breath and her thoughts.  

"Make your choice creature of dirt and sky." He jeered. A wicked smile lifting upon his lips.  

"Fen'Harel, my lord..." A man's voice interrupted.  

Tyriel turned her head she could see Josiah through the black strings of braids that hung before her view. He was standing a few yards away, hands placed behind his back as he respectfully bowed before Fen'Harel.  

Tyriel felt the heat of his irritation radiating against her from Josiah's interruption. Braids of hair lifted from her line of sight as he stood looking over at Josiah.  

"What brings you here Josiah?"   

"We saw and heard bursts of energy from your area. I came to see if you required assistance." He replied matter-of-factly.  

Fen'Harel turned his attention back to Tyriel glaring down upon her pathetic predicament. "What will it be?" He pressed in a low growl.  

She met his glare with a grimace of her own. "You are nothing more than a wolf in shee-"  

Using his grasp on her wrists Fen'Harel yanked her towards him as he swung his knee forward slamming it into her solar plexus. With the forced expel of air and limpness of her body, he knew she was unconscious. Releasing his grasp on her wrists, Tyriel was left to crash against the ground.  

Fen’Harel looked over to Josiah, staring him down as he withdrew the energy of his outstretched soul. With it concealed behind the illusion of a meagerly spirited one he advanced towards Josiah, his pace swift and intense. 

“Remove her and that mercenary associate from my palace at once.” He ordered. 

Josiah obeyed, moving towards Tyriel’s limber body sprawled over the blanket of turf. As he gathered her up in his arms, cradling her against the fabric of his robe that covered his lean chest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, lots of foreshadowing in this chapter.  
> And just curious, is anyone else ready for shit to go down? ;)


	7. Chapter 7

Song: [Journey (Ready to Fly) -Natasha Blume](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=obKb7-6MtLs)

Pic: [Fen'Harel](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/565975878161796430/)

The slight jostle against cradled arms awoke Tyriel. The sway of light-footed steps rocked her in a motion so nimble it was like being carried on a wave. The silky fabric of the damask shirt was so soft against her face. She barely flinched before the grasp on her tightened. She twisted her neck upwards and saw Josiah's stiff, chiseled expression. 

The slight inward turn from his grip averted her attention to her aching stomach. A groan rushed from her lips as she hugged her arms over her stomach but the movement of her wrists gave a discomfort of their own. Her tired eyes were now wide and alert as she examined herself. Wide bands of red wrapped around her pale wrists, a foul adornment left by the Wolf.  

"Your injuries are trivial at best, so quit your squirming and consider yourself lucky." Said Josiah, his voice so contemptuous and derisive it was hard not to think he was mimicking the tone of Fen'Harel himself. 

"I don't need the lash of your tongue or your help, I can walk by myself!" She retorted. 

Her forearm shoved against his chest as she pushed herself out of Josiah's arms with a leap, landing on her feet. Her stomach panged from the brash twist of her body, causing an involuntary twinge. She gritted her teeth as she fought to ignore the discomfort and balance her stance. 

"Certainly... you _obviously_ know what you're doing." He quipped. 

The soft pale hands that rested at his sides balled into tight fists, sinews protruded outwards making hills and valleys of his boney knuckles. His once soft steps quickened into an aggressive stride as he forcibly led her out the garden and through the palace. His hand clung her forearm as he navigated her through the garden. Although her legs were long, she struggled to keep pace without having to canter. An orchestra of vibrantly colored dahlias, peonies, and camellias lit up the sea of green encircling them. Their sweet lively scent danced though the air as he steered her back through the garden. 

Tyriel's free hand settled over her solar plexus, not from pain but as an act to comfort the souls within her. Their unique colors flashed and whirled within her. They witnessed the exchange between her and the Wolf. She felt the current of their fury and despair filling her. 

There was no doubt Josiah can see them. He had seen the auras of her and Fen'Harel souls clash. It requires a significant amount of power and knowledge to have the ability to see such things. She couldn't blame the people for not noticing the excessive amount of souls floating among them. But Josiah was ignoring their panicked mannerisms as he had from the beginning. He kept his head forward refusing to give his attention to anything other than leading her off the palace grounds. 

The abundance of the plants began to diminish as he steered her back through the garden from the way she and Fen'Harel had come. The grassy path before them expanded outwards making a center point for the many trials it linked through the garden. Waves of white fabric swirled and billowed with the breeze from the pergola, drawing her eyes from the greenery surrounding them. She saw one of the four columns in the distance just beyond the grassy center before her. And among its flowing grace was a figure dressed in black. No doubt among his pack of arrogant advocates that were hidden by the distance between them. _Fen'Harel_ _._  

"That bastard!" She snarled. 

The very silhouette of him ignited the heat of anger she was attempting to calm. The violent flutter of souls swarmed within her. Their lively essence only aided in stoking the fire of her rage. She could feel them instigating, prompting her to seize justice. 

Tyriel snapped her arm backwards, pulling it out from Josiah's grasp. She veered to the side, spacing herself away from him before sprinting towards the pergola. Leaving Josiah and the light twirling fabric of her dress in her wake. The presence of the pergola grew as she began closing the distance. 

The sounds of crunching grass and the clink of ornaments were distinguishable as she heard Josiah closing in behind her. She refused to look back, her mark was ahead of her not behind. The wick of her patience had burned through, she refused to spare him another moment of her time. She searched more than a thousand years for Fen'Harel, showed him respect, lowering herself to beg for his help. This opportunity will not go to waste. 

It wasn't until the sound of Josiah's panting was within ear shot that Tyriel realized how close he was to catching her. Her heart thrummed against her chest in a rapid staccato. She couldn't allow him to interfere any further. He might be able to guard against her attacks but to guard against the souls she harbored within was another thing entirely. 

There was no way around it, she must summon the souls contracted to her. The souls that bound themselves to her that chose to fight with her to protect the fate of their fellow elvhen. They lived their lives in servitude to their masters and even as souls, chose to continue to give all that they are. There were only three and she would need to utilize them wisely if she was to succeed with her purpose... 

"Sentinel, occupy Josiah." She commanded between panted breaths. 

She felt the presence of the orb-like soul fly out of her back. It was the startled gasp that escaped Josiah's throat that signaled he had met her sentinel. As much as she wanted to watch Josiah be stymied by her companion there wasn't time. Tyriel pushed forward, rushing past the lush leaves and fragrant flowers. She could see the group of advocates that were hidden before. 

_Just one more thing to do before I deal with the Dread Wolf_. She thought to herself. 

"Tank," she began as she considered her strategy, "free Fenris and guide him to me." 

The summoned soul rushed out of her solar plexus and wove its way through the shrubs and flowers towards the palace. 

Tyriel slowed her pace as she began to reach the edge of the brush that opened up to the grassy center before the pergola. Stopping behind the large wavy leaves of a hefty rhubarb brush, she separated some of the branches before peeking through the self-made peephole. She could see Fen'Harel, his nine advisors, and the two female house staff. 

She had one contracted soul left, the rogue. Before the fall of Arlathan it was common for any mage with abundant power to have a foci. And what use was a foci if one did not carry it on them? The price she would pay for using another's foci was meager compared to the continued feeling of worthlessness that weighed upon her. Should her plan prove a bust, rogue's stealth attack was almost always fatal. 

She inhaled deeply, using the moment she had to slow her panted breaths and release her stiffened muscles. Regardless of how scared she felt appearing collected and controlled was imperative. With the release of her breath she ambled across the green coated turf. Her feet followed the path of the widening grass trail towards the pergola and its cemented substructure. 

There was the Wolf chatting and laughing with his lean, beautiful body slouching back in his chair, shoulders low and relaxed, a clear indication of the careless weight he wore upon them. It wasn't until Yura acknowledged her approaching that she saw the Wolf's posture tense up. Tyriel stopped a few yards shy of the pergola's stone base. 

"Fen'Harel said that you will be leaving, but I must say I am disappointed it is so soon. Your existence was not known to us until Josiah had told us yesterday. There is much we would like to ask and learn from you." Yura said as she took a few steps towards her. 

Yura's smile was warm, her words inviting. A tone peaked with interest, a hunger to learn of this enigmatic creature of Mythal's. Tyriel looked among the faces of the fellow advisors, observing their facial expressions carefully and noting the disposition of their body language. They all stared at her as they had earlier. Their eyes examining her physical features while their minds imagined and hypothesized who and what she was. Andruil and Sylaise had made their presence known to the elvhen people; whereas Tyriel came much later and chose to live secluded from the masses. 

Tyriel laced her fingers together in front of her before answering. Her eyes settled on the soft brown orbs of Yura's eyes. "It is true, I will be leaving. But there is one thing I must do before I go. I have a question for your magisterial god." She said evasively before looking over to the right side of the pergola where Fen'Harel sat. 

He remained in the same lax position as he had before, feigning that he was unfazed by her. But she could see through his facade by the slight raise in his shoulders and intense glare from his haughty eyes that gave him away. He was peeved by her presence. 

"Oh, handsome and powerful Fen'Harel," she evoked teasingly, a cynical smile lifting upon her lips. "I ask you one last time, what about the evanuris?" 

She felt a heavy shift in the ambiance as she observed a sense of uneasiness among them. She watched as his advisors backed away, turning towards him, their expressions reflected in an unintended unison. They were dumbfounded by her audacity. What they had thought would be a unique opportunity had taken a turned discommodious. 

He was unmoving, set in his stiff act of composure. "I should have expected nothing less of someone so young. You were created as a woman but have the insight of fellow elvhen children your age." 

"You think being old makes you wise?" She ridiculed, raising up her hand as she waved it back towards herself. "Come here old dog I'll teach you some new tricks!" 

Green sparks danced from his fingertips, emphasizing his tightknit scowl with its scattered light. "You've wasted your-" 

"How dare you threaten the last of our pantheon!" Katar interjected as his tall lean frame charged at her. The quick clatter of his steps quieted once he made it to the open patch of grass around her. His arm stretched forward firing a cluster of ice at her. 

"Barrier!" Tyriel shouted as she put her weight on her back foot and rolled her body away from him in an attempt to avoid his attack. Despite her attempts the jagged edge of his icy cluster sliced through the side of her beautiful emerald silk dress. A gruff yelp escaped her throat as she rushed to press her hand against the wound. The ridges of her scraped flesh were so frozen that her fingers nearly stuck to the gouge. 

The words " _As_ _long as you are one for one, you aren’t losing_ _._ _"_ echoed in her head from a lesson she had learned with Falon'Din. Katar had landed a glancing blow, but she had summoned a protective barrier and set her plan in motion. 

Before she could counterattack Katar leapt into action with his next move. Clouds of vapor began secreting from his hands as he moved within arm's length, pivoting his feet as he followed her movement. Katar lunged forward and sent his left fist flying towards her exposed face. Tyriel once again used her superior speed to duck and turn her body away from his crushing blow as she propelled her elbow into his vulnerable ribcage with all the force she could muster. 

A loud grunt of pain pressed itself from his gut, but the counter attack did little else to stifle his onslaught. His hand shot outwards and latched onto her swollen wrist and twisted her arm behind her back in one fluid motion. 

Tyriel thrust her other elbow backwards but this time he was ready for it and caught her upper arm in a vise like grip. Katar tightened his grip and lifted her arms painfully as he pulled her tightly against his chest, she could feel the heaving of his breath against her back. She took heart in the fact that he had worked hard to gain this position, but being this close to a hated enemy caused her to twinge uncomfortably. The icy grasp of his hands made goosebumps spring up over her arms which offered a sharp contrast to the heat of his panting breath upon her ear. 

"Beg Fen'Harel for forgiveness and I might show you mercy." He sneered at her. 

Tyriel grimaced at the absurdity of his words since when has Fen'Harel truly shown anyone mercy she thought to herself. 

Tyriel turned her head, sight focused on the god in black, as he sat in his seat. She couldn't look away from the dark smirk that played along his lips, the sight of her pinned amused him no doubt. The grip on her arms tightened refusing to let her focus stray any longer. A signal of Katar's wavering patience. 

"What am I to do with your mercy?" She mocked. "I'd rather die on my feet than live on my knees in service to a deranged god!" 

The heat of anger circulated through her increasing with each breath. His harsh icy grasp felt soothing to her burning flesh. The colorful world around her shifted the grass, pergola, and the people grew warm in hue she was seeing the world through red-tinted glasses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
> I am looking for feedback if you are willing.  
> It can be about dialog, scenery, action, whatever you thing is good or needs improvement.  
> I can't be a better writer without feedback.  
> Also, thanks for reading my story thus far :)


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